


A Fireteam Can Be Two People

by Liquid_Lyrium



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 18:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liquid_Lyrium/pseuds/Liquid_Lyrium
Summary: “Do you think the Traveler ever makes mistakes?”It is a simple question, with a simple answer. A simple, awful answer. Hanzo never asked to know.





	1. Traveling Companions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larxenethefirefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larxenethefirefly/gifts).



> This is my gift for larxene for the Target Practice discord server Secret Santa exchange! I combined two of the prompts (sort of).  
> Prompt 1: Destiny crossover where McCree is a Gunslinger and Hanzo a Nighstalker & Prompt 3: Late night, up at three am because of nightmares, bonding time and sharing their past and healing together. 
> 
> So this is more of a fusion of the two universes than a strict AU? As such some of the lore details are... maybe a little wibbly wobbly but tbf the actual Destiny lore is fairly loosey goosey anyway. (Even moreso than OW's lore.) It does have a happy ending though I promise! (I hope it is not too angsty, frien! I tried!) This also got way out of hand bc these ideas were both so good.
> 
> So I hope you enjoy larxene! Thanks for getting me back into Destiny and totally hooked on D2! (I HAD TO PLAY IT FOR RESEARCH!!) And thank you Spin for your last-minute pro bono pro-beta work! This work is infinitely better and more readable because of that.

They took turns dreaming.

The dreams were hazy and indistinct. Some good, some bad. Mostly violent. There were some that were normal dreams. Things that happened during the day or week that molded together into approximate or symbolic recollections of recent events. Some dreams were much older. More like memories that bled away upon waking. These dreams were overlaid with cherry blossoms. Pink canopies and blood on his hands.

Hanzo knew what they were, as much as he knew he was forbidden to know as much as he knows about them.

He wondered if other Guardians hold the same sort of forbidden secrets, or if it was only him and McCree.

“Do you think the Traveler ever makes mistakes?” The question froze Hanzo’s blood in his veins. He hadn’t heard the other Hunter get up. Evidently, McCree was in a philosophical mood. He looked at Zenyatta, throat suddenly tight, unable to answer. The gentle cyan light played off the silver and orange stripes on the Ghost’s chassis. The bronze glyphs imprinted on its ridges locking away some inscrutable wisdom of the Traveler itself.

He felt a gentle ‘nudge’ from Zenyatta. Hanzo’s last Ghost never communicated via emotions, and Hanzo still felt uncomfortable each time it occurred. After two years, he still had trouble interpreting the emotions Zenyatta kept trying to send him through their link.

A further reminder of how he shouldn’t be here.

Hanzo swallowed the lump in his throat and looked at the horizon, the sky still black and purple in night’s cool embrace.

The Traveler hung heavy in the sky, a pale, blighted fruit.

“You ever resent that thing?” McCree’s helmet landed heavy in the dirt beside Hanzo. Zenyatta gave a pleasant chime and swayed in a gentle orbit to allow McCree more space—and to allow Sombra to flit everywhere she pleased.

“Do you ever not?” He looked up at McCree, trying to sound casual, but he wasn’t sure what kind of night it would be—for either of them.

Jesse snorted. A good night, it seemed. Or at least not the worst. Better than Hanzo anticipated. “You know I don’t always got a chip on my shoulder.”

“Just sometimes.” Hanzo allowed himself to smile, to feel relief.

McCree shrugged. “Can’t fault a man for asking. Feel like I’m either mad or sane for hating that thing, sometimes, and I just wanna know which.”

“You have asked that question more than once.” Hanzo glanced between Zenyatta and Sombra, still sensing… _something_ under the surface with McCree, unsure what would truly satisfy the Gunsligner.

“And I might point out that if you ever give me an answer, I might stop asking.”

“Might,” Hanzo teased lightly.

“Keep yer secrets then.” McCree let out a disgusted noise, and dropped to the earth beside Hanzo. The smell of loam, dirt, and grass was welcome after the dusty landscape of Mars.

Hanzo looked down, unsure of how upset the other Guardian truly was. He didn’t know what to say. Jesse talked more than most Guardians. More than his last companion, even. Hanzo had gone a whole year without speaking, before he met Jesse.

Sometimes Jesse scared him. The man was incapable of turning down a signal for help—despite all the traps they had walked into. The man was far too reckless with his gift of the Traveler's Light, and too willing to die for strangers and friends alike. Hanzo had seen McCree die more times than any Guardian he’d ever traveled with. It only seemed to get harder to witness, the longer he knew the other man.

He scared Hanzo the most when he talked about how much he hated and resented the Traveler.

Every time he asked if it was capable of making mistakes.

It terrified him that Jesse might realize that Hanzo knew the answer.

“You look troubled. Did you not rest well?” He had hoped Jesse might get a bit of good rest while he kept watch, but it seemed his wishes had not achieved any sort of paracausal effect.

McCree fished out a smoke. With all that humanity had lost and gained over the centuries, Hanzo was amazed that particular vice remained. “Nah. Had dreams of… you know. The Before.”

Hanzo felt his chest tighten. _The Before_ is what they had decided to call their vague memories of the life they had before the Traveler had awoken them. Before they became part of the Risen. It rarely boded well for either of them. McCree had pieced together three words. Overwatch. Blackwatch. Deadlock.

This last word seemed to cause him the most anguish.

“I see.” He cast a glance over at McCree, trying not to be too obvious with his concern, but the mirrored helmet disguised his expression well enough.

“I’ll live,” Jesse said with a wry grin, and he heard Sombra’s distinctive giggle. Half laughter and half whirring servos.

Hanzo didn’t like the haunted look that flickered across Jesse’s face a moment later, and he hadn’t felt so lost and adrift since being thrown from his hoverbike when they were exploring the ruins of the Horizon Lunar Colony for Fallen activity. McCree’s distress was getting harder and harder to bear. Like the Traveller hanging in the distance, Hanzo felt there was some answer out of reach. Something beyond his understanding that could set things right.

The rush of air from McCree’s mouth wasn’t quite a whistle as he let out his first exhale of smoke. “Anyways, Sombra, you sure you locked into Athena’s signal this time?”

_“So suspicious, jefe! I got it this time, for sure.”_

“Hm, you better. That old Warmind is the only thing in this whole ‘verse that I trust—well; that and the other half of my Fireteam over here.”

_“You would exclude me!?”_

“Kinda feel like I should after the last ambush you led us into.”

_“Oooh! See if I raise you next time you need me.”_

Hanzo chuckled. “Come now, would you truly do that to me? Leave me to fend for myself to spite McCree?”

 _“Hmm, alright. You’re lucky he’s around!”_ Sombra zipped around McCree’s head and butted into the back of his skull. McCree grunted, but there was no blood drawn. _“Zenyatta, are you sure you don’t want to switch?”_

Hanzo’s amusement vanished into a cold nausea and a spike of panic. He felt a gentle touch again from Zenyatta, an unwelcome and disorienting sensation, even though he _knew_ it was an attempt to soothe. The Ghost attempting to fulfill its function.

_“Positive.”_

_“Can’t believe I’m stuck with you.”_

McCree chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sorry, little lantern.” He reached up with his metal arm and gave Sombra a platform to rest on. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

 _She is lucky._ Hanzo realized a moment too late that the thought bled into his connection with his Ghost.

He felt a touch of amusement that was not his own, and he glared at Zenyatta who let out an audible chime, drawing the attention of Sombra and McCree.

_Stop that._

_Apologies, Guardian._

Hanzo felt heat climb up his cheeks as he caught McCree’s eyes flick towards Sombra—clearly having some private conversation with his own Ghost.

_Must you try and emotionally manipulate me?_

_It is not my intention. Thoughts and emotions are two sides of the same coin. I am not certain I have the capacity to keep emotions out of our link._

Hanzo bit the edge of his tongue, still able to _hear_ the thoughts that the Ghost was holding back. He let out a sharp breath through his nose, trying not to show his anger on his face, despite the fact that Jesse couldn’t see it at the moment. The man was too good at reading him.

Hanzo’s jaw ached as he clenched his jaw tighter at the next, softer touch of Zenyatta’s calming energy. There was something… wistful and sad at the edges that tore at the ache forming in Hanzo’s chest.

_If you would like I could assist you with your emotions in a less direct capacity. You seem to have difficulty in recognizing them. Managing them. A connection such as ours… should not cause such anguish._

Hanzo huffed out a ghost of a laugh, and if he were not suffering such internal turmoil he would have found the way that Sombra tilted to match the tilt of McCree’s head endearing.

“Something funny?”

Hanzo let out a bitter laugh, “Not really.” _I wish_.

“You and Zen at it again?”

“No,” Hanzo lied. The brush of sorrow from his connection with the Ghost made him angrier.

“I don’t get how you two don’t get along. Your Ghost hardly says boo, he really that chatty in your private link?”

 _“I have enough wisdom to know when my input is desired or required, Guardian McCree.”_ Hanzo personally thought the Ghost was doing a poor impression of that right now.

 _“Rude,”_ Sombra spun in place, her chassis whirling in a tight spiral.

“He used to be much chattier,” Hanzo said offhandedly, thoughtlessly.

“Used to be?” McCree tipped his head in the opposite direction as he took another drag from his crudely crafted smoke.

Hanzo winced internally. “Yes. He used to… _sermonize_ , I suppose might be the term. You would probably enjoy it. Zenyatta is very philosophical at heart.”

“Hm, that so Zen? You and me might have to have a chat sometime when your boss isn’t around.”

_“That could prove quite enlightening.”_

_Do not even think of it._ Hanzo wasn’t certain why it was crucial to keep Zenyatta and McCree from talking outside of his presence.

_And what is so terrifying of the prospect of McCree and I having a conversation?_

_I am_ not _frightened!_ Hanzo jumped to his feet, cheeks burning again.

He couldn’t help the snarl that curled his lip as he felt the faintest, fleeting flicker of amusement from his Ghost.

“Hanzo?”

_Do you fear that I might disclose something to McCree?_

Hanzo’s first instinct was to deny it. That there was nothing for him to conceal from McCree, but Zenyatta’s very presence was a repudiation of that attempt at self-deception. He hated that he could feel Zenyatta’s pity. It was like an anchor. A dull stream of hurt that worked at the wound residing in his soul.

_Hanzo. It has been over two years, I can calculate it down to the picosecond. You cannot continue to ignore your feelings and shrink away every time you feel mine. I believe the rejection is what causes this connection to hurt._

“Hey, Hanzo?” He shook his head and he started pacing away from McCree, as if he suddenly had the urge to patrol the edge of their camp, but his Ghost followed, a few meters behind.

_Of course it is my fault._

_I did not say that._

_What else am I supposed to think then, if you are not the one ‘rejecting’ our bond?_

“Hanzo!” He could hear the crunch of earth under McCree’s boots.

Hanzo wasn’t certain what he felt, but there was a confusing blast of emotions from Zenyatta that nearly staggered him. It was a torrent like nothing he had ever felt, and he wondered how long Zenyatta had been holding back for his sake.

He supposed the Ghost could tell him, down to the picosecond.

Zenyatta cautiously hovered closer, Hanzo could feel his spine tingle as the Ghost closed a bit more distance.

“Hanzo,” McCree caught up to him, and Hanzo felt the weight of McCree’s metal hand on his shoulder. “Wait up!”

“Apologies, McCree. I should have…” Hanzo trailed off, uncertain both how to finish the sentence and if he should pick up his argument with Zenyatta or not. He was thankful he had opted to keep his helmet on. He could stare at McCree without feeling quite so vulnerable.

“What? Told me that you and Zen are ‘at odds’ again? Whatever the fuck that means?”

“You and Sombra fight all the time.” Hanzo set his mouth into a tight line.

“That ain’t the same and you _know_ it!” McCree threw his smoke on the ground and crushed it underneath his boot, which caught Hanzo by surprise. Jesse was more likely to part with his favorite gun than an unfinished smoke.

 _“Yeah. We’re just playing. Usually. Except when he’s being dumb. Are_ you _being dumb right now? Cause I have seen both of you pull some pretty dumb stunts over the last year.”_

“Sombra, just… try _not_ to help with this one,” McCree sighed and pinched his brow. “Hanzo what is up with you and Zen? I haven’t pried until now, but it’s… I don’t like it. I like both of you, and it feels like my two besties got a knife at each other’s throat half the time.”

Hanzo sighed, and glanced over at Zenyatta, who was still cautiously orbiting closer.

His teeth made a truly awful sound in his skull at the next confusing brush of Zenyatta’s emotions. He tried to turn away, but McCree’s hands shot out to grab him by the shoulders.

“Hey!” Hanzo felt a spike of panic he knew was his as he felt McCree’s thumbs reaching for the catches at his neck where his helmet connected to his body armor. “Don’t sweep this under the rug like you do everything else! I ain’t gonna—”

“Do you think the Traveler ever makes mistakes?” McCree looked like he’d been struck by the force of Hanzo throwing his words back in his face.

Sombra twitched, suddenly hovering next to Jesse’s ear. Hanzo didn’t need neural symbiosis with Sombra to know that she was advising caution.

Jesse was so rarely lost for words, it was something Hanzo would have been tempted to savor, another time. McCree looked down at him, jaw moving, but no sound came out of his mouth.

McCree’s thumbs, at least, had stopped reaching for the catches to release his helmet.

“...Are you talkin’ about you and Zen?”

Hanzo clenched his hands into fists, the weave of protective fibers digging into his palm. “That was _not_ the question.”

The silence that stretched between them grew thinner and thinner. Until it was fiber of hard light only a micron wide.

“Do you think the Traveler makes mistakes?” For once, Zenyatta seemed to be suppressing their connection, though Hanzo could still feel the barest bit of tension.

“I.. you know I didn’t mean… I was just.. I had a bad set of dreams, and you know not to take anything I say when I’m half-asleep seriously, darling…”

Hanzo lifted his chin, and he hoped his stare somehow penetrated the dark, mirrored surface of his helmet. “Do you think the Traveler makes mistakes?”

“Han, please…”

“I do not think you would have asked me if you did not have an opinion yourself. Answer your own question, McCree. Does the Traveler make mistakes?”

Nausea roiled in Hanzo’s stomach as he waited for McCree to answer. To confirm his suspicions.

McCree gave Sombra one last desperate look before answering through clenched teeth, _“...Yes.”_

Hanzo felt his shoulders sag, the weight of the disappointment hitting him. So McCree knew. This whole time. And Jesse had pretended this whole time that the other half of his Fireteam wasn’t a mistake.

 _“Vex signatures detected. Hostiles incoming!”_ Hanzo cursed softly as Jesse pulled out Peacekeeper. Hanzo pulled a grenade from his belt, and his bow from his back.

He shot Jesse a worried glance, afraid for the fact that the man’s head was exposed and vulnerable, Light be damned. Still, like a well oiled machine the two of them split apart, Hanzo taking what bit of high ground there was on the gentle, rolling landscape, and McCree readying his hand cannon.

“The hell are Vex doing on Earth?” Jesse’s voice buzzed in his ears over their communicators.

Hanzo had no idea. Couldn’t begin to fathom the strangeness of it. Vex, in his opinion, were some of the worst enemies the universe had to offer. They combined so many of the worst elements of all their other foes combined (though the Hive were by far the most distasteful and disgusting, and the ones Hanzo hated the most). The Vex had all the tenacity of the Fallen, the toughness of the Cabal, and the reality-altering prowess of the Hive.

The sum of these parts totaled to something much worse.

At the first sight of the mechanical, bipedal frames, Hanzo launched a grenade—the residual effect of the void power slowing down their movements enough that he and Jesse could line up their shots to take out the great frilled headpieces that approximated heads.

His combat bow found the weak points of their joints next, but even still the frames shambled forward until they were damaged enough that they fell apart under their own weight.

The unpredictability of the Vex was irritating as well. Jesse was much better at lining up predictive shots, Sombra keying in to the Vex’s signals and technology to help him predict where they would re-enter the timeline. Sombra was able to hack anything, and was better at analyzing tech than any Ghost Hanzo had ever met.

Hanzo had to rely on his own cunning when it came to fighting the Vex, on the chains his Void powers created to bind them into place. He grunted as a blast of hot plasma ate through the armor on his gut. His breathing became labored and he knew he could not fight through whatever was going on with his internal organs.

Hanzo hid behind what passed for cover in this landscape, the barest outcropping of limestone. He had to lay flat to take advantage of the cover, and he was glad he did when he heard the terrible groaning of something like a nightmarish, mechanical whale song as a Hydra and an accompanying cohort of Harpies manifested in the air surrounding their camp. He could feel Zenyatta heal the organs beneath as the Ghost also tried to quickly repair the damage done to the armor.

“Hanzo! You okay partner?” There was a strange, incongruous warmth that blossomed in Hanzo’s chest at hearing McCree’s worried voice in his ear.

“Yes, but that Hydra is going to be trouble.” Hanzo peeked above his outcropping, the semi-translucent shield of hard light (or the Vexian equivalent) rotating slowly around the vaguely spinal-shaped creature. “I need… fifteen seconds, if you can give them to me.”

“You got it.” He could _hear_ the smile in Jesse’s voice, and that same, incongruous warmth kindled in his chest once more.

Hanzo felt his breathing ease as the bruises underneath his damaged armor faded. He heard the familiar sound of Jesse’s knife sinking into the metal alloy that encased the Vex. Hanzo pulled the sub-machine gun off his hip—one he’d won off a smug Titan in the Crucible match he’d met Jesse in—and felt justified in his decision as a Harpy loomed over him. Hanzo emptied half a clip into the red eye before the creature fell lifeless at his feet.

The familiar crack of Peacekeeper helped Hanzo manage the agonizing eternity while he was useless and out of commission as Zenyatta patched him back together. It told him Jesse was still alive, though the pained noise and curse that traveled through the comms made Hanzo’s heart leap up into his throat, and he recklessly pushed himself up out of cover, bow already fully drawn, despite the external panic he felt from Zenyatta, and the frantic weave of his minifacturing unit.

“Jesse!?” Hanzo let the arrow fly before his eyes fully registered the sight of Jesse wrestling with a Minotaur, tendrils like a Harpy’s had sprouted from the thing’s arm and burrowed themselves into the man’s mechanical arm.

Hanzo slipped back behind cover once he saw McCree push the lifeless body of the cyborg off of himself. “‘M fine… arm ain’t working though.”

_“That thing implanted a virus. I can only do so much while we’re ducking fire like this… or not ducking it and trying to cover for the other half of our Fireteam over there.”_

“One might point out that traditionally a Fireteam is three people, and that the other half of this Fireteam could leave you two to fend for yourselves.” Hanzo’s throat was too tight for it to come out like a joke.

“Leave it. Need you to tell me where the Vex are gonna be. Han, you able to get over here? Think we need to get to our bikes and beat cheeks here soon.”

_“My repairs will be completed in 2.02457 seconds.”_

“Finally taking my advice on tactical retreats, I see.”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so and all that. We still gotta burn a path through these guys.”

“Allow me.”

Hanzo called on the Light, drawing it into himself from his surroundings. Zenyatta often told him that the Light was in all things, suffusing the entire universe, and that is how Guardians were able to channel it into such concentrated, powerful attacks. Hanzo knew he was not the only Guardian who used the Light to channel the Void, but he had never seen anyone wield it like he did.

He wondered, often on the edge of sleep and thoughts of The Before, if someday his reliance on the Void would bleed him of the gift of his Light entirely.

It did not seem that it was today, and the purple arrows burst forth in an instant, a small storm of otherworldly javelins before exploding into giant dragons that caught whatever they could in their coils. He cursed as some of the Vex flickered through spacetime, but the dragons increased the diameter of their attack, drawing more in.

Hanzo sprinted the distance, even as Vex still shrieked out discordant death knells, sliding next to McCree. Worryingly, the Hydra was not trapped in the dragon’s coils—nor anywhere to be seen.

He pulled McCree to his feet, and slung the useless arm across his shoulders, despite the Hunter’s protests.

“Hey, c’mon now! I can walk!”

“Then move your feet!” Hanzo suddenly wished he’d let McCree remove his helmet so that he could feel the man’s breath on his neck. They ran, Ghosts zipping along behind them faithfully. Like buoys. Like satellites.

Just when the bikes were back in view, the air before them shimmered and the Hydra returned, bearing a new cohort of Harpies, and the sight of familiar, impressive horns on a pair of Hobgoblins sent a wave of dismay through Hanzo.

“Shit!” Behind them, Hanzo heard Sombra echo the curse of her master.

Zenyatta offered a much more sedate, _“Oh dear.”_

Hanzo glanced around them, desperate for any sort of environmental advantage they could claim. It was too soon to try and summon the dragons again. He wasn’t ready to test the hunger of the Void.

Not yet.

“Hanzo, help me aim.”

“Wha—” But Hanzo caught golden light gathering around McCree’s inert hand from the corner of his eye, and he understood. He ducked, pressed himself against McCree’s back and held the arm aloft, curling his hand around the back of the immobile metal.

This was the only way Jesse could still shoot with his left hand, and he reveled in every moment of it. It seemed that it would be no different now, even with his hand inoperative.

Hanzo stood in awe every time Jesse formed the power of Solar into a weapon. The last time Hanzo had tried to wield the power of Solar in his hand it left blisters for days that lasted through ten resurrections.

Like this, filtered through Jesse, it was bearable and humbling.

Like Jesse had gifted him a tiny, personal star.

The Void was easier. It was easier to condense everything down and crush it. To pour all of his self-hatred into a single, crackling point and crush the Light and life out of everything and then release it.

“I’m still the man with the golden gun.” He caught the barest bit of McCree’s grin, and Hanzo thought he must have been shot again, because his stomach flipped, curled, and it felt like he was _dying_. He focused on the field ahead, and together they emptied three shots into the Hydra, and took out three more Harpies. Enough to stave off immediate death, at least, though an ill-timed explosive bolt of blue from the Hydra’s corpse sent them both flying off-course. Hanzo was thankful again for his helmet as he collided with the ground.

Hanzo winced and crawled off of McCree, ducking lazers and whatever passed for gunfire from the Vexian technology.

“Jesse, give me Authority!” Hanzo’s ears were still ringing, even with Zenyatta’s superlative healing abilities and the protection of his armor. He could only imagine how painful it was for McCree without his helmet.

The other Hunter bellowed back, rubbing one ear, “ _What!?_ A sore body!? Hanzo you have the _strangest_ sense of timing, I mean…”

Hanzo gave himself a minor case of whiplash from how quickly he turned his head to look at McCree. In another lifetime, perhaps a thousand resurrections from now, this would be amusing. Farcical. Hilarious.

“ _What!?”_ For now this surreal moment straight out of an absurdist play would (no doubt) kill them both and they would be nine-hundred and ninety-nine resurrections closer to the moment being funny.

“We ain’t even talked about… Shouldn’t we have dinner first or something!?” There was something like genuine panic on McCree’s face after the initial incredulity had passed.

“ _Authority!”_ Hanzo tried again, praying the man’s hearing had cleared.

“Oh.” McCree shrugged the heavy machine gun off his shoulders, and Hanzo took it from him with a strangled, half-hysterical grunt.

 _“A Guardian’s greatest weapon is Patience,”_ Zenyatta chimed in thoughtfully.

“Do you see that spread? Patience would be useless. Besides, it is back with the bikes.” They didn't have a ton of grenades to load into Patience anyway.

“We only got the one cartridge of ammo for Authority. Make this shit count.”

Hanzo nodded shortly, and focused his fire on the Hobgoblins first. Those damn things and their ability to regenerate were by far the most irritating and most dangerous. They couldn’t afford to waste their ammo on them unless they could be guaranteed a kill.

Fortunately, the raw firepower of Authority outstripped the Vex’s ability to self-repair and self-heal. After the goblins were dead, Hanzo focused on clearing a path to their bikes through the remaining Harpies.

He cursed and nearly left the thing behind when it ran out of bullets, but one look at the expression on McCree’s face had him tightening his hold on the useless dead weight, and Hanzo leaped onto his bike, nearly flipping it as he fumbled for the throttle.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the engine of Jesse’s Sparrow roar to life and Hanzo kicked on the engines, and they sped over the landscape, Ghosts tucked into little compartments McCree insisted on installing for them.

Evidently the holsters had been a good investment, given the number of mad escapes they’d initiated over the last year.

The scenery blurred behind them, dark shapes against the dark sky. They drove long and hard, until the the faintest hints of the sun started to lighten the eastern horizon.

“Are they following?”

_“I do not sense any hostile presence.”_

_“Seems like we might be clear for now… Whenever you two wanna park, I can start working on your arm, jefe.”_

McCree chuckled over their comms. “Sounds good, pumpkin. Kinda sucks trying to drive one-handed.”

Hanzo glanced over at McCree. Aside from some slight listing, he seemed to be doing okay. “There’s a cave up ahead, let’s take cover in there.”

They pulled forward, tucking into the yawning mouth of the cavern. If there was something deeper in the cave, well… Hanzo just hoped they had whatever time they needed for Jesse’s arm to be repaired.

Hanzo paced the perimeter of the space they had staked out, while Sombra swept purple light over Jesse’s arm. There was an inexplicable tightness in his chest as he paid too much attention to McCree and Sombra’s quiet conversation.

There was that gentle brush of emotions through their symbiosis again, and Hanzo felt his hackles raise.

_Sombra has exemplary abilities when it comes to hacking and programming. I am certain that McCree’s arm will be operational in no time. Let your troubles be eased._

_I am not… troubled._ Hanzo frowned as he realized—not for the first time—that Zenyatta was correct when it came to matters of his heart. Suddenly claustrophobic, he tore off his helmet, slamming it on the saddle of his hoverbike.

“Yo, you okay Hanzo?”

 _And Genji_ liked _this!? Aoi never infringed on my emotions this way!_ Hanzo wasn’t sure whether the prick of hurt in his heart came from him or Zenyatta.

_I do not ask to be compared to your previous Ghost any more than you ask to be compared to my previous master._

It was quite the slap in the face from a being without arms.

 _You_ always _compare me to Genji_ , Hanzo thought at his brother's Ghost, after a moment. _I can_ feel _it._

 _I do not. While I miss your brother, and I note your differences, you two are sufficiently different beings that judging such comparisons are meaningless. Your ability to interpret my feelings does not seem to come to you as naturally as it did to Genji. Whether that is due to our shared trauma over his loss, or innate differences I cannot say. Our link may yet improve with time. It seems to me that_ you _are the one comparing yourself to Genji._

Hanzo swallowed thickly. _It has been two years._

_So it has._

_Surely our symbiosis has fully developed._ He could not imagine it improving after so much time and so many deaths had already passed.

_I do not require you to adhere to a particular timeline in regards to our bond, Hanzo._

“Hanzo?”

 _“Hold still! I’m not done yet!”_ Sombra let out an exasperated series of electronic chirps. The sweeping, purple light had stopped caressing Jesse’s arm as she followed McCree.

Hanzo swallowed thickly, avoiding McCree’s eye as he came closer. “It is nothing. Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

“The hell it isn’t! The other half of my Fireteam trying to eat himself up from the inside? Don’t think I’m not concerned about that. Don’t think it for a second, Hanzo.” His heart beat faster in his chest as he felt McCree’s good hand close around his arm, through the weave of his armor.

“We… did not finish our conversation. About mistakes.” His heart trembled a bit in his chest, and Zenyatta reached through their bond trying to do _something_ for the ache. “About the Traveler's _fallibility,”_ he can’t help the bitterness in his tone.

“Ah, shit. No, no, _no,_ honey, please, I didn't mean to poison you!” There’s anguish in Jesse’s voice and on his face that Hanzo can’t fathom, and his chest hurt so much it crowded out whatever Zenyatta was trying to do for him. “I didn't mean to make you question the Traveler or hate it, or… _God!_ That's all my shit! That's not on you!”

“…What?”

“All that shit I've ever talked about the Traveler, that's not… that's… Look, Hanzo,” Jesse's voice was as soft and serious as he'd ever heard it. “We've talked about… about The Before more than we should have, specially since we shouldn't remember it at all, right?”

“Some might also point out the danger of confiding too much in a man you have known for scarcely more than a year,” Hanzo said the words dryly, but McCree wasn’t amused by his dissembling. He flat out ignored it, and kept the conversation serious. Unheard of.

“I remember…. I been at this Guardian thing awhile now. Long enough that I know… more than what's allowed, about my Before. I ain't _trying_ to go looking for it, but it keeps coming back. Haunting me. Each time I die and come back, the more I seem to remember. And the more I remember, the less I'm certain why I'm here. You feel me?”

Unlike most of their conversations, where McCree tried to draw him out of his armor-clad shell, Hanzo didn't even have a chance to answer the question before McCree continued, “I remember, Hanzo, the shit I've done. The blood on my hands. Terrible things you can't _imagine_ even after all the horrors the Collapse brought us. Things that would make you up and leave if you knew.” Jesse’s voice cracked and in the dim light from their Ghosts, their bikes, and the lights on their armor, Hanzo caught just a glimmer of something at McCree’s lash line. “And it's just… How the hell did someone like _me_ get chosen for all this?” McCree's voice trembled. “How'd I get a shred of this Light unless I stole it? This is someone else's life I've got, someone's else’s Light, and—”

Hanzo's skin tingled, as though a bolt of Arc energy from the motor of his Sparrow had suddenly lanced through him. He couldn't breathe from the weight and sorrow the revelation brought him. Still, he managed to stand up as tall as he could—eternally shorter than Jesse—and he planted his hands on either side of Jesse's cheeks, touching their foreheads together, as though he could somehow share his thoughts with the other Guardian like they could a Ghost.

“You are not a mistake.”

He felt the faintest flutter of Jesse’s breath against his lips at the declaration. The tickle of air as his inhale stole the breath from his mouth.

 _I had everything backwards._ Hanzo let the thought slip over to Zenyatta. His brother’s Ghost deserved to know that much. _This whole time._

 _You did._ The gentle touch of Zenyatta’s emotions were not nearly so painful this time.

_When I felt your emotions earlier... It was not… you did not pity me. That was guilt. Your guilt, at causing pain. I did not recognize it through my own perspective._

_Yes._

“If anyone here is the thief, it is me. Zenyatta is my second Ghost.” Hanzo felt McCree’s shock run through him, felt the man twitch beneath his palms, but he did not pull away.

“What… what happened?”

“I found my brother. We were brothers in The Before. We should not have known, but we kept it a secret. We were a Fireteam for many years. I lost my Ghost, then Genji…” He couldn’t complete the thought. He couldn’t think about that now, not with McCree’s misery staring him in the face. He could share that story later. The whole story, from The Before to the present.

There was something… comforting to that thought. A sort of tranquility came over him at the mere _idea_ that he would share it with Jesse.

Hanzo closed his eyes and pressed their noses together, “I am sorry I did not recognize how unworthy you felt. I am.. familiar with the sentiment. You did not ‘poison’ me.” Hanzo hesitated. “There are things in my Before where I am not certain how I came to be here either. Things in my After, that I surely do not deserve.”

McCree chuckled softly, and Hanzo felt his knees tremble at the warmth of Jesse’s laughter touching his lips. “Can’t think of anything you don’t deserve.”

“There is much,” Hanzo whispered, his palms entirely too sweaty as he continued to hold Jesse’s cheeks between them.

“Like what?” It wasn’t fair how deep and warm Jesse’s voice was. How that soft whisper tricked Hanzo into opening his eyes to meet the deepest brown in the entire universe.

“My brother’s sacrifice for me. His forgiveness for what I did to him in The Before, even if he does not remember,” Hanzo swallowed thickly, and he prayed he interpreted Zenyatta’s next nudge of emotions correctly as encouragement.

Suddenly, Hanzo was scared. Too scared to pretend otherwise.

_Be Brave, Guardian._

“...You,” Hanzo breathed the word, not entirely certain why he had—until he caught the shift of Jesse’s pupils, the way they dilated and it was no longer clear who was stealing whose breath as Jesse’s lips covered his own.

_Oh._

Everything fell into place. Like a hovercycle being righted on a low-grav planet. As if his life had been in a decaying orbit, that Jesse had suddenly corrected by his presence. His gravity.

Hanzo found he did not mind the warmth he felt from Zenyatta as he wrapped his arms around Jesse. A moment later, however, something else fell neatly into place, and Hanzo pulled back, to a disappointed sound from Jesse.

“You… you called me ‘darling’ earlier,” he couldn’t quite breathe, his cheeks hot. “And.. and _honey_ just now.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed. Now that he had, Hanzo felt that same Solar heat that Jesse had shown him earlier, all throughout his body.

McCree laughed nervously. “Ah, yeah, guess I did. Guess it… slipped out. Been sweet on you awhile, sweetness. Wasn’t sure you felt the same way.”

“Is _that_ why you were so willing to believe I would proposition you in the middle of a firefight!?”

McCree barked out another laugh. “C’mon! I was… partially deafened!”

“I think you mean you had selective hearing.” Hanzo couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his face.

“Wishful hearing?” McCree’s smile was the most charming thing in the universe, and Hanzo tipped his jaw up to kiss the corner of it.

 _“If you hold still and give me fifteen minutes, you might be able to hold your boyfriend with both arms there.”_ Sombra’s intrusion on the moment caused them both to laugh, and Hanzo reluctantly stepped back, though he reached forward to squeeze Jesse’s right hand before stepping back to let Sombra work.

“Boyfriend is presumptuous, seeing as you have not taken me out to dinner yet.” Hanzo smirked across at Jesse.

The Hunter doubled over laughing, and no doubt Sombra was chiding him in their private link. “That's the most romantic shit anyone's ever said to me, in any lifetime.” His eyes were a bit too warm, however, and too bright as he met Hanzo’s gaze, taking his breath away.

Hanzo knew exactly what Jesse was referring to.

“I will say it to you, as much as you need to hear,” Hanzo promised, his voice suddenly rough.

“Until I believe it?” Jesse’s voice was half-wary, half-teasing.

“Perhaps.”

“What about until we both believe it?” Just like that, it was as if Jesse had reached into his chest to grab his heart—yet he trusted the man with it.

“If… if you like.” There was very little he would not do for Jesse. He could try and believe his own words, for Jesse’s sake.

“I think I would like that.” Jesse gave Hanzo a wistful little half smile. After a beat, he added, “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Traveler don’t make mistakes after all.”

Hanzo wished he could agree so easily. “Perhaps we will find out.”

He finally stopped pacing the perimeter of the cave, and he simply watched as Sombra scanned and countered what the Vex had done with Jesse.

“Never seen the Vex on Earth before.” McCree tipped his head thoughtfully, but Hanzo could see the agitation, his impatience bleeding through as he waited for Sombra to work her wizardry.

“No, it was strange.”

_“They kept saying something about a thief. I don’t get it.”_

“We haven’t stolen anything from them that I remember… Well, not lately, anyway.”

“Thief, huh?” Hanzo stared deep into the inky blackness that went further into the cave.

_“I think they were here for… well, us. Not sure why, but… yeah. Doesn’t seem like they want something so much as someone. Which is you two. And by extension, us four. Thanks for that, by the way.”_

McCree snorted, “Well, maybe once we find Athena, this’ll all get sorted out.”

_“Hey… maybe that’s it! Athena! They must have locked onto her signal, right? That’s probably how they knew to find us.”_

“It seems as likely an explanation as any.” Hanzo ran a hand over his beard, trying to remember the last time he had stolen anything from the Vex. It had been well over a year.

Genji had always been fascinated by their technology. He was convinced—in part by his contact and post-Golden Age nanotechnology expert Angela Ziegler—that they could use the Vex’s technology to reverse-engineer the secrets of SIVA. Hanzo had indulged his brother’s quest, until it had finally reached its awful conclusion.

He hadn’t even contacted Ziegler to let her know what the quest had claimed.

They fell into a comfortable quiet, and Hanzo was not as perturbed by the soft pulses of emotion he felt from Zenyatta. There was a hiss and a mechanical whir as Jesse’s arm came back online, but he sighed happily and flexed his metal hand.

“Thanks Som, I know I don’t tell you enough, but you’re the best.”

_“You don’t.”_

Without a word, Jesse sidled up behind Hanzo and slipped his arms around his waist. Hanzo almost protested, but the warmth and comfort that the other man provided was too enticing to fight. He all but melted into Jesse’s arms, burrowing back into the other man.

“So in the morning, we go see what the hell Athena wants with us.” McCree rested his chin on Hanzo’s shoulder, as if they had always… _cuddled_ like this while McCree casually laid out their next steps.

“Right,” Hanzo said, feeling slightly dizzy.

“Then we do whatever she wants us to do, and we stop by The City and get us a fancy meal somewhere. Hell, I’ll sell Peacekeeper if I have to, to get us the glim.”

Hanzo snorted. “No you won’t.”

Jesse laughed easily, and it was a beautiful sound only a few centimeters from his ear. “Alright, you caught me. I won’t. But I’ll think of something. And depending on what Athena wants us to do, maybe we do that in reverse order. Dinner first and mission later.”

Hanzo chuckled, feeling a warmth thread through him, and two year’s worth of tension lifting from his shoulders. “I could be persuaded to do that.”

McCree hummed contentedly, and then brushed his lips over the back of his neck. All the nerves along his back seemed to light up, and Hanzo couldn’t breathe. “Go to sleep, darling.”

Hanzo let out a strained laugh, “I don’t see how that is possible if you keep kissing me like that.” He could _feel_ Jesse’s grin pressed against his skin, but that quickly turned into more and more kisses on every bit of exposed skin that Jesse could reach.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Hanzo warned breathily, though even now the warmth that Jesse had transferred into his skin was more languid and less fevered.

“Can’t wait to get you somewhere we can peel out of this armor and crawl into a real bed.”

“And tell me why I am supposed to be excited by the prospect of you napping for twelve hours?”

“Cause,” Hanzo shivered at the blast of air against his ear as Jesse snorted. “You’ll get to sleep for a solid thirteen.”

“That does sound nice,” Hanzo let out a deep sigh and let his eyes slide shut.

Jesse pressed a much milder kiss to the back of his neck. “Sleep. I got you.”

Hanzo tried to stay awake, to savor the feeling of being held in Jesse’s arms, but it wasn’t long before he was pulled into a blessedly dreamless slumber.

It wasn’t thirteen hours, but it was enough. By Zenyatta’s expert estimations, Hanzo spent 36.3333 repeating minutes in Jesse’s arms after he woke up, pretending to still be asleep.

They hopped back on their cycles, and let Sombra guide them through Athena’s complicated and ever-shifting signals of buoys and relays, until they found an ancient underground bunker with a pale blue door of steel. A faded, almost perfectly circular logo covering the door. McCree traced his fingers over the faded golden portion of the outer circle before setting Sombra to bypass the security.

“I remembered you.” The remark was so casual, Hanzo didn’t realize its significance at first.

“What are you… _me?”_

“Yeah.” Jesse was tracing the inner part of the design on the door now, the not-quite triangular pieces of the middle. “You were in one of my dreams last night. Before our beauty sleep got interrupted, I mean.”

“That could have been just a dream,” Hanzo protested, his heart trembling in the grip of Jesse’s metal hand once more.

“Nah,” from the shake of McCree’s head, he could have been trying to shoo away a fly. “I know the difference between those and The Before… don’t you?”

Hanzo said nothing. Jesse’s smile wasn’t nearly so comforting as it had been last night.

“Yeah, I thought so.” There was a pause, “You aren’t gonna ask me about it?”

“I… should I?” His mouth was suddenly dry.

“Hm, maybe not here. I trust Athena, I really do, but I dunno how much she can bend the rules, even for us.”

 _“Boring,”_ Sombra said, still working on the door.

He wasn’t sure what the significance was that McCree remembered him, and he did not. He wondered under what circumstances they had met in that other lifetime. What was so bad about it that it had renewed McCree’s self-hatred?

Hanzo stood, staring at McCree—who was still avoiding his gaze—and he reached forward to pull Jesse’s hand away from the door and link their fingers together.

This time, it was McCree who jumped in surprise, but he quickly relaxed into the touch with a smile. Jesse lifted his hand and brushed his lips against Hanzo’s armored knuckles for a kiss just as the door finally groaned open.

 _“Gro---oss!”_  Sombra let out her ‘giggle’ again after however.

“Hush,” Jesse chided his Ghost, tugging Hanzo gently into the dark interior of the abandoned bunker.

The only light came from their Ghosts, until they were five stories deep underground. They found a generator still operational and running, but it only took Zenyatta and Sombra a few minutes of work to repair the damaged connections and wires to light up the rest of the floor.

They picked their way through a hallway, and Jesse keyed in a code at the next door they ran into, leaving Sombra affronted that her skills had not been needed.

Hanzo didn’t ask how Jesse had known the right code for a place neither of them had ever been before.

He kept his hands on his weapons, though part of him wanted to take Jesse’s once again.

The fact that they were over twenty meters below ground made the room claustrophobic enough without the massive processing unit that took up half of the vault they had stepped inside. Half of the room was walled off behind hard light and other materials Hanzo was less familiar with. He couldn’t make out whatever was obscured behind the light wall, but it seemed large.

It was hard to imagine this terminal was only a vessel, not even the true home for Athena. Just somewhere she could place a fraction of her processing power. Hanzo wondered how large the actual Warmind herself was, wherever she was hidden.

“Hey ‘Thena.” Jesse mimed tipping an invisible hat to the terminal. “What brings you to this ass-forsaken corner of the planet?”

_ <Agent McCree. As charming as ever. You could have greeted me in the hallway as soon as your Ghosts repaired the rest of the wiring, you know.> _

“Yeah, but you know me. Old fashioned kinda guy. Prefer to say my greetings in person.”

_ <I hope you did not have an issue reaching this location.> _

“We ran into some Vex,” Hanzo ventured. Jesse looked surprised, then genuinely pleased that he’d spoken up at all. Usually he let McCree do all the talking.

_ <I see. That is not surprising, given the cargo that is waiting for you here.> _

“Cargo?” McCree blinked. “That what you called us here for? We gotta transport something?”

_ <Negative. One of my agents came across something on Venus that was very interesting.> _

“Venus?” Hanzo’s throat scarcely allowed him to speak.

_ <Yes. On the outskirts of the Shattered Coast. I believe it belongs to you, Hanzo.> _

A small chime played and a small storage compartment opened below the white, stylized _A_ on the console. Hanzo recognized the lifeless husk inside immediately.

“Aoi…” It shocked him, how much it hurt to see his old companion like that, after so long. “I thought.. I did not think I would see Aoi again.” Hanzo did not make an effort to cross the distance, but he wondered what to do, now that Aoi’s body was here. A chassis could not be cremated, but it could be melted, perhaps. Or buried.

_ <There is something else as well. I wanted you both to be here for this. I am not able to predict how this will go. There is not enough data, but I believe you two should be present for this.> _

“For what, exactly?”

_ <There was some Vex technology recovered by my agents, yet it seems… altered. I am uncertain if this is Vex experimentation or something else. If it is something else, then it could be a useful weapon against our enemies. I feel that with it contained, and with both of you here, activating it is an acceptable risk.> _

“Oh, so it’s a surprise party, why didn’t you say so?” McCree chuckled and pulled out his hand canon, facing the enclosure of light.

_ <I tried not to tip our enemies to the presence of these materials, but it seems they must have found out somehow. Are you ready as well, Hunter Hanzo?> _

Hanzo nodded mutely, pulling out his combat bow.

_ <Sombra, Zenyatta, I will need your assistance. Please allow me to interface, and we will begin the activation protocols. I know your skills will be up to the task.> _

_“I suppose if the big boss says so,”_ Sombra spun in place, evidently pleased to be getting her proper due from another intelligence.

_“My specialty is in healing and regeneration, but I will be happy to lend my shell and my processing power to assist.”_

The color of the light changed for both of their ghosts. It was more noticeable with Sombra, but even Zenyatta’s blue turned much deeper.

The wall of hard light shimmered and Hanzo finally thought he could make out a shape behind it. A geometric pod. Definitely Vex tech of some sort.

He gripped his bow tighter. If it was another Vex, he would only be too happy to eliminate it.

Minutes passed by, and the terminal that housed Athena threw off an incredible amount of heat as the Ghosts circled the containment field. Within, there was a bright light that traced the edges of whatever containment unit that had been recovered, and Hanzo drew his bow back fully as a humanoid shape finally burst out of it.

There was a tense silence, and Hanzo knew Jesse was fully ready with Peacekeeper, but the thing inside remained still, not even fully out of the thing that kept it contained. Not very like a Vex at all.

The light from the containment field finally dimmed, and Hanzo could properly assess the creature inside.

His first thought was _Vex,_ then _Exo_ , and then confusion because it was certainly no Vex he had ever seen, but no Exo either. It was something else entirely. A machine, for certain, probably some sort of cyborg as it was lithe like a Vex, but clearly inorganic—but it was too… human to be fully Vex.

It had all the right proportions. Two arms, two legs, five fingers! What sort of Vex construct would perfectly mimic human anatomy? Hanzo shot Jesse a confused look, unsure of what to make from it. There was a hiss, and suddenly green rings lit up all over the creature’s body, and a slash of green approximating an eye line lit up as well.

The thing lifted up its hands, staring at them, before slowly starting to disconnect and climb out of the unit it had been contained in.

It stopped as soon as it saw the two of them—then Hanzo heard a voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

“Anija?”

There was only one person in the universe who called him that, and he had been dead for two long years.

Still, Hanzo’s grip on his arrow loosened, and it ended up buried in the floor, well short of the containment field. _“Genji,”_ Hanzo breathed. “It… cannot be.”

The thing inside the field stepped out of the makeshift… coffin? Resurrection device? Reconstruction unit? Hanzo should have paid more attention to all of Genji’s talks with Dr. Ziegler. It came right up to the edge of the containment field and released the catch on its face… revealing again a sight that was familiar as it was alien.

His brother had been as human as Hanzo before they last parted. When Hanzo thought him dead. Now he was… something else entirely. Not fully organic, not truly synthetic. Something utterly unique.

 _“It_ is _Genji,”_ Zenyatta’s voice was full of wonder, and Hanzo suddenly realized that he no longer had a connection to the Ghost. There were no emotions he could sense from his partner of the past two years. Hanzo felt a strange relief mixed with grief. He could taste it like ashes and iron on his tongue.

“I missed you, old friend. Thank you for taking care of my brother while I was… indisposed.” Zenyatta floated closer to the containment field.

_“Of course. I would have done so, even if it had not been your last command to me.”_

Genji smiled over at Hanzo, and he felt his knees buckle as he sank into the ground. McCree’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, Peacekeeper still in his other hand, but Hanzo knew there was little intention for violence on Jesse’s part.

There was only one gun that he shot with his left hand.

“How?” Hanzo reached up to clutch Jesse’s hand like an anchor. He heard a grunt as he gripped the man’s hand entirely too tight, despite the armor, and he relaxed his hold.

“Please, you have been my brother for, what? Two lifetimes now? More? Haven’t I always defied your expectations?” The shit-eating grin was certainly the same.

He couldn’t imagine any technology capable of recreating that.

Hanzo shook his head, still feeling like this must be a dream. All of this had to be a dream, a simulation he was trapped in somewhere. But the weight of Jesse’s hand on his shoulder felt _real_.

“You… have always managed to do what I thought impossible. I suppose I should be used to that by now.” He studied the being that claimed to be his brother… and Hanzo could not deny that it was Genji. As much as he _wanted_ to.

He looked up at Jesse. It felt like he’d been caught in a concussive grenade. “If I had a Ghost, I would tell you to shoot me, just to make sure I am not dreaming, but that is clearly impossible if my brother has reclaimed his.”

“You could shoot me and let me regen this one.” McCree shrugged. “I mean I dunno if that’d make it less surreal for you, but damn this is pretty surreal already for me and I only have the tiniest bit of skin in this game.”

Hanzo’s stomach clenched and his blood ran cold at the very idea.

“No.”

McCree shrugged. “Well, thought I’d offer. So, what do you think? We good to let this dude out?” Jesse looked over at the enclosure, “You gonna go all ‘execute subroutine delta’ on us and snap our necks if we let you out?”

The laugh sounded as though it had been filtered through several communication relays, but at the core, it sounded the same. “I don’t _feel_ a murderous rage right now, does that sound alright?”

“Hmm, yeah, that’s always the way it goes though, isn’t it? You only get the glowy red death eyes when we let you out, right?”

_“I can vouch for this Genji’s authenticity. This is my Guardian.”_

_ <Very well, I will remove the containment field. We will need the three of you to contact Agent Winston after this. He will be very intrigued to know about these developments.> _

McCree whistled. “Damn, didn’t think you trusted anyone enough to let ‘em meet Winston.”

_ <These are incredibly unique circumstances. You will need to make your way to Hygiea to meet Agent Tracer as soon as possible.> _

“So much for dinner,” Jesse grumbled under his breath as the containment field vanished. Hanzo held his breath, but a few moments passed, and Genji’s lights remained green, and he did not suddenly appear behind them to assassinate them.

Jesse finally set Peacekeeper back in her holster and took a knee by his side, throwing an arm over his shoulder.

Genji held his new hand out, and it seemed he and Zenyatta had a lengthy, private conversation. Not that he could blame either of them. Hanzo could only stare in wonder, his whole body numb.

Finally, his brother—was it still his brother, truly?—Genji walked over, a broad smile on his face as though the last two years of loneliness hadn’t happened.

It suddenly struck Hanzo that for his brother, it hadn’t.

He felt sick with envy, and then anguish and relief.

“So, our little Fireteam is reunited again.”

“I am… Yes, but.. I am again without…” He looked over at Aoi’s inert form.

“Well then, it seems like the first order of business is for us to find you an unpaired Ghost! For the second order of business… who is this?”

Hanzo blinked, the lashes of his left eye heavy and wet. He stared over at Jesse, then looked back at Genji helplessly. “This is…Je-Jesse, he-” Hanzo blinked, and tried to start again, “He is… That is to say-”

Jesse squeezed his hand lightly, then smiled up at the thing that was and was not his brother, “Howdy! Name’s McCree. You can call me Jesse, but if you’re anything like your brother, I wager you won’t.”

“He just called you Jesse.” Genji tilted his head, and Hanzo could already tell his too-smart, smartass brother was already calculating the complex calculus of the past year of interpersonal relations. No wonder he and Zenyatta got along so well.

McCree laughed, a genuinely warm sound, despite the nerves underneath. “Yeah, but it’s taken him about a year or more to do that. Anyways, I’m the other half of Hanzo’s Fireteam.”

“That used to be my line,” Genji laughed. “Isn’t he stubborn? He’s so picky about who he works with. He’s always telling me ‘ _A Fireteam can be two people_.’” Genji’s impression of him had not gotten any more flattering during the time he was dead. Or… whatever he had been for the past two years.

McCree loved it, and howled with laughter. “Bullseye! He’s just as mean as you are, darling!”

“It is a family trait,” Hanzo said with a growing amount of dread, but Jesse still apparently found him funny because he laughed at that too.

“Well brother, it seems like we finally have a proper Fireteam of three, no?”

“I have not agreed to this.” Hanzo finally stood up, Jesse got up as well, moving his hand to his elbow.

“Aw hon, don’t be that way. You don’t gotta choose between your man and your brother.”

The light in Genji’s eyes was more than metaphorical as he looked at both of them, as if he had been handed a gift. _“I knew it!_ How long _have_ I been gone? The Hanzo I knew was hopeless with men. _”_

Hanzo sighed.

If there was still any doubt about his identity before now, the fact that Genji had returned from the dead and started teasing him in under half an hour confirmed who he was.

“I am going to go live as a hermit on the far side of Styx,” Hanzo announced to the room at large, knowing it would make little difference.

“After we go to Hygiea, and then dinner, sure.” Jesse winked, and suddenly Hanzo felt that his whole, surreal turn of events might just be bearable after all.

Hanzo nodded, and turned to face Genji, who was holding Aoi’s damaged, inoperable chassis reverently in his hands.

“Hanzo… it is good to see you again,” the smile on his brother’s face was damaged, scarred, and hopeful. “I am glad you had McCree to take care of you, while I was gone.”

Hanzo reached out and gently plucked Aoi’s body from his brother’s palms. “You were the one taking care of me. You gave me your Ghost. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“You know me. I never let anything stand in the way of whatever I want!” Hanzo turned Aoi over in his hands, the memory of cherry blossoms and blood on them instead briefly surfacing.

“No… you don’t.”

Hanzo clutched Aoi to his chest. His Ghost had loved the seas and oceans of Earth. Perhaps before they left they could bury Aoi in view of one.

“I… need some air, you two have fun talking about me behind my back.” Hanzo left the room, in spite of McCree’s protests, but he was immensely grateful that Genji pulled him back. Hanzo glanced over his shoulder and nodded at Zenyatta.

He didn’t need their link to know he had intervened on his behalf.

The sun on his face was a welcome distraction, and Hanzo found himself speaking with Aoi, knowing full well that his former companion was well beyond hearing him.

“I suppose it was too much to hope that getting Genji back meant that you would return from the dead as well, my friend.” Hanzo covered the unseeing aperture that used to serve as his Ghost’s eye with his palm.

“I wonder, Aoi, do you think the Traveler makes mistakes?”

Hanzo swept his gaze across the landscape, following the ripple of grass in the wind as his old friend didn’t answer.

“I thought so.”

He looked down at what used to be his Ghost, “Thank you, for all the times you brought me back. I only wish I had the power to do the same.” He traced his thumb over a plane of hard metal.

Hanzo pulled down the ribbon of silk that he used to tie back his hair and he wrapped his friend in it. A fitting shroud.

Despite his heavy heart, Hanzo felt a sense of calm wash over him. At least this time he could say goodbye, and Aoi would not be alone on a hostile planet somewhere.

“Careful, you’ll have me starting to think that the Traveler has things happen for a reason, or a deeper plan in all things,” Hanzo chuckled softly.

When Jesse and his brother emerged from the bunker Hanzo was ready to leave, and ready to be part of whatever the universe had planned for him next.

Genji was gracious enough not to comment on the fact that Hanzo instantly climbed behind Jesse to share the same hovercycle until after they had left Earth’s orbit and were one Astronomical Unit into their journey.


	2. Epilogue: A Dinner Date Can Be for Two People and Two Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fated night finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An sweet epilogue <3

“You look nice today, Hanzo.”

Hanzo looked up and glanced at Genji in the doorway. His brother had always been light on his feet as a Warlock, but now with his new body, there was never a prayer of hearing him.

“Can’t you knock?” Hanzo fussed with his appearance in the mirror. He already felt foolish and naked outside of his armor, it didn’t help that his resurrected brother was here to judge his appearance as well.

“So touchy!”

_“Be not suspicious of your brother’s motives, Hanzo. I can assure you that Genji is here out of genuine support and excitement.”_

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but he smiled a bit at Zenyatta’s reassurances.

 _“Dinner is going to be great! And now that Genji’s here to help you prep, it’ll be even greater!”_ The source of the bubbly encouragement orbited around Hanzo’s head, bouncing up and down like a sound wave. He chuckled at Tomo. Always full of such optimism and unbridled enthusiasm.

He still wasn’t sure why Tomo had been drawn to him, but their bond was already stronger than his ever was with Zenyatta, in roughly a quarter of the time.

“I appreciate the support, but it is just dinner. McCree and I have eaten together many times over the past year and a half.” He hoped that he sounded casual, but Genji was fairly good at seeing through him. It rankled, a bit, that he would always have an additional advantage he’d never had before, with Zenyatta having spent a year in his head and entangled in his emotions.

That slight irritation that his brother had an edge when it came to reading him, however, was worth it to have Genji back.

“Yeah, but this is _dinner_ ,” Genji stressed, placing his hands on Hanzo’s shoulders, disrupting the carefully casual hang of his cape that he’d spent the last hour on. “Dinner that you’ve been promised for about six months, by my estimation.” Genji circled Hanzo, eyeing him like a Vandal surveying him for weakness. “Those pants are hideous with that outfit. Get into your black ones.” Genji crossed his arms.

“These are-” Hanzo bit his lip.

 _Why don’t you want Genji to know that these are Jesse’s favorite pants on you?_ Tomo spun in place like a children’s toy.

_It is… There is a concept of ‘too much information.' Knowing something can make a person unhappy. Especially if you are related to the other person._

_Hm. Seems weird, but if you say so!_

It was still strange, at times, to be the one teaching his Ghost about the intricacies of human interaction. Strange, but good.

Genji still had an edge, however, and he had always been good at filling in the blanks. “ _Jesse_ is a man who would waste a resurrection on recovering his centuries old cape. He isn’t going to care what you look like, but _you_ need to make sure you aren’t thrown out of the restaurant for looking like a pair of destitute, backwoods bounty-hunters who haven’t even bothered to wash the radiation off.”

“It’s a serape,” Hanzo said, without meaning to, but it was worth it when his brother groaned.

“Disgusting. I can’t believe you made me join a Fireteam with you and your boyfriend. Can’t we get one of those six-person teams I’ve heard so much about?”

Hanzo chuckled, but his heart did a flip at the word _boyfriend._ “I’ll change my pants, I promise. Why are you really here?”

Genji crossed his arms and tilted his head. Hanzo was still getting used to the unnatural stillness his brother exhibited. After awhile Genji finally spoke, “I guess I just like seeing you happy. It’s nice, Anija.”

“Oh.”

“I also wanted to make sure you wouldn’t do that… _thing_ of yours where you try and shoot yourself in the foot so that things never work out for you.”

“How nice of you to forestall my favorite method of self-sabotage by claiming my guns earlier, then.” The words were dry as ever, but Hanzo still felt a surprising amount of affection for Genji (despite his blatant meddling). Then Hanzo surprised them both by pulling Genji into a tight hug.

_“Oh! You told me to let you know when you had fifteen minutes left! … You have fifteen minutes left!”_

Hanzo cursed, and Genji laughed. “I’ll go, but have a good time tonight, biggest bro.”

“I think I will,” and then Hanzo shoved his brother out of the room so that he could put on his third change of pants inside the last twenty minutes.

Hanzo broke several ordinances and abused his Hunter powers as he leaped from balcony to balcony to save time as he cut across the City. Tomo however, as Hanzo had discovered, loved games and his Ghost was able to guide him through little byways and the smallest gaps in security without detection.

 _Awesome! Are we going to try and beat our time on the way back?_ Hanzo chuckled as he dropped down to the alley below. Once they strolled out, they would just be part of the regular foot traffic, not rule-abusing Guardian and Ghost at all.

_I don’t think so, little friend._

Even though it was night, the amount of artificial light and the bright expanse of the Traveler above them meant that it was easy enough to see, and when he caught sight of Jesse, Hanzo’s heart stopped beating in his chest.

Jesse, the sneak, had managed to go find a barber, because his hair was cut short, shorn on its sides, and his beard trimmed into something resembling a civilized man’s. He had seen Jesse out of his armor before, but never in a context like this, just… the two of them. Together. To have dinner.

It had always been between washing in streams on distant planets, tending to wounds, and combating hellish heat before.

Hanzo felt his cheeks grow hot as he wondered what other contexts he might get to see the man out of his armor in the future.

 _His heart rate definitely got faster. Just so you know_. Tomo’s sweet thoughts interrupted his daydream, and Hanzo was flustered before Jesse had even said a word.

“Well, shoot, thought I had a chance at being the most handsome after cleaning myself up, but nah. You’re still the handsomest thing in the whole wide ‘verse.”

Hanzo smiled, and reached out to take Jesse’s hand. “I consider myself a close second, tonight.”

“You’ll be happy to know, after our last gig, I did not have to sell Peacekeeper or any bodily organs to cover for tonight’s dinner.”

 _“That just means that you technically paid for your own date night, though. Super. Romantic.”_ McCree rolled his eyes.

“Som, can you allow us to have the illusion of us having separate finances for a single evening of grand gestures?”

“We have been rather… attached for the past year and a half,” Hanzo reached up to trace the bare parts of Jesse’s face, unable to resist the temptation. He smiled a little as Jesse swallowed audibly.

_His heart rate climbed again._

_I know_. Hanzo fought a smirk, and then lost the battle. He decided to have mercy and he fell into step beside the other Guardian, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Shall we?”

“Yeah. You two Ghosts better behave, been waiting on this date night for a good half year!”

 _“That sounds boring,”_ Tomo sighed. _“But I bet the inside of the restaurant will be amazing and fancy!”_

 _“I guess I can keep myself busy…_ this _time.”_ Hanzo felt a grateful rush of affection for both Ghosts. Affection that was not returned through the link, but he reached up and let Tomo dance over his fingertips.

He sighed contentedly as Jesse put an arm around him, and Hanzo let his head nestle into the perfect space on Jesse’s shoulder. His eyes lifted upwards, and he couldn’t help looking at the great white expanse of the Traveler.

He caught Jesse shooting the silent saviour a furtive glance as well.

“Think I owe that thing an apology?”

Hanzo laughed and shook his head, “No, but perhaps we owe it some thanks.”

Jesse’s smile kindled a glow to rival any Solar heat in his chest.

“I can live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had another month, i would absolutely write about Hanzo and Tomo meeting. I may do that someday in the future bc I love the thought of this relentlessly positive, sweet, and upbeat force telepathically connected to Hanzo for the rest of time.
> 
> Happy New Year!


End file.
